Affairs of the Heart
by Cass Legann
Summary: He was older, married, and had a child. But I fell in love with him anyway.


**Affairs of the Heart**

Disclaimer: All publically recognized characters are property of their rightful owners. I claim only the plot.

Summary: He was older, married, and had a child But I fell in love with him anyway. _

Prologue

I felt numb and detached as I stared unseeingly through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Next to me were my purse and trusty old backpack from my college days, my trunks having already been tagged and were on their way back. Finally, after a stint oversees that lasted more than three years, I was going home.

Only it no longer felt like home.

I turn my head almost unwillingly, searching aimlessly and compulsively for a familiar face. I know he wouldn't be here; we had agreed that prolonging the inevitable was pointless. I was going on that flight whether he showed to wish me good-bye or not. But it had become a habit – the minute I stepped into any place, my eyes would unconsciously seek him out, whether it be at the office, the mess hall, or the park. He had become my home, my support, my comfort; without him, I drifted through life meaninglessly.

I was barely twenty-three years old the first time I stepped off the plane three years ago, naïve and trusting. He was one of the few people who had not abused that trust, and helped me gently mature instead of rudely stripping away whatever innocence I had retained.

For years we had danced around our feelings. I was afraid of putting myself out there, afraid of the disgust that would be evident in his eyes when I spoke of my illicit feelings. He was afraid of my reaction, of whether I could accept a man older than myself by almost a decade.

Three years, seven month, and twenty-four days ago I arrived with trepidation, and wanted nothing more than return and never look back. Now, when I finally had the chance to return, I never wanted to leave.

My hand closed convulsively around my cell, sorely tempted to dial his number that I knew better than my own, only to remember that I had already switched out my SIM cards, and it would no longer work here. I was cutting ties viciously and harshly; my cell was only the last of a long stream of objects that had changed. At least I was allowed to keep my house after a long and exhausting argument tossing out statistics about rising house prices and convincing them having a house, even one that stood empty for the majority of year, was a good investment. If bad came to worse, I at least had a place to stay if I ever decided to return.

For seven short months, he had been mine. He had been my first for almost everything, and I already knew I was never going to love another man the way I loved him. I knew he loved me, but at the same time, I feared deep inside that I would never measure up to his son, his comfortable life here. He had asked that I wait for him for one year to leave his affairs in order, but I feared that when the time came to make that final decision, he would be unable to follow through. We had hope, but I wanted decisiveness.

"Attention! Passengers for Korean Air flight No. 380, please proceed to gate No. 42 for boarding. Passengers for Korean Air flight No. 380 to Incheon, please proceed to gate No. 42 boarding."

The loud speaker broke through my reverie, and only then I realized that I was crying and biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. Hastily releasing my lip and dashing way any tear streaks, I slowly made my way to the line forming by the gate. I made certain to keep my head down to prevent my well-meaning, holier-than-thou busybody asking me why my eyes were the red. I wasn't sure if was more unappealing: recount my story to someone I didn't know, or give a fake smile and convince them that I was fine.

I didn't speak as the flight attendant checked my ticket against my passport, smiled, and wished me a pleasant flight. But I couldn't stop myself from looking back one last time before I stepped through the terminal.

Unconsciously biting my lip again, I heaved a sigh, and stepped forward. From this point on, I could only pray.


End file.
